Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of Conley And Billy (the Proof's In The Picken')

Screamin tires and a guitar by his side
Billys got the fever as he rolls on the night
Some born to listen, some were born to play
He was on the highstrings and thunder on the bass

He could play it high, he play it low
He make it cry, he could make it moan
He knows push comes to shove
The in the pickin

In a smoky little tavern just off of Bourbon
Tobacco stained fingers waited on the down
Conley was the master, the king
Hed ruled the town for thirty years with an army of six

He play it high, he could play it low
He could it cry, he could make it moan
He knows when push comes to
The in the pickin

Sometimes after midnight, Billy drives New Orleans
to the French Quarter, theres a man he has to see
The music is a like a city thats on fire
Billy felt just like an altar boy at the feet of a power

Conley watched as Billy walked the room
his case and started a tune
The whole was silent and the lights were turned down low
Billy stepped up on the and Conley whispered, Go, son, go

He could play it high, he play it low
He could make it cry, he could it moan
He knows when comes to shove
The in the pickin

Conley held his hand up, no one a sound
And he handed Bill his old archtop and into the crowd
played it soft, Billy played it sad
Then he made it talk and in the band

Soon the was shaking
Before Billys wall of
And just a off Bourbon Street
A new been crowned

He could play it high, he could it low
He make it cry, he could make it moan
He when push comes to shove
The in the pickin